


Medusa and the Hero of Athens

by cellostiel



Series: KC Writes About Greek Mythology [1]
Category: Ancient Greek Religion & Lore
Genre: F/F, Greek Heroes, Mentions of other characters - Freeform, Prose Poem, References to Ancient Greek Religion & Lore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-31
Updated: 2020-01-31
Packaged: 2021-02-25 13:55:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22497199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cellostiel/pseuds/cellostiel
Summary: "What makes you think that I am lovely?""You sound lovely." says the hero"How does one 'sound' lovely?" you challenge"You are kind. That is the loveliest thing that one can be."Foolish.How terribly foolish."Sleep, hero."You will need it if you are to face Medusa."~A hero wanders into the cave of the fearsome Medusa - but this is not a hero like any Medusa has ever seen.A prose poem about a Gorgon, a Greek Hero, and fickle Gods.
Relationships: Medusa/Original Character(s)
Series: KC Writes About Greek Mythology [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2014429
Comments: 6
Kudos: 83





	Medusa and the Hero of Athens

**Author's Note:**

> I've been on a real Greek Mythos kick lately and then this happened lmao
> 
> CW for allusions to certain heavy aspects of Medusa's origin myth - there's nothing explicit, but it is mentioned in passing.
> 
> Enjoy this lesbian take on the Medusa myth~

You were beautiful once

You are beautiful still, but in a different way

A way that others are unable to see.

This new visage turns men to stone

This suits you fine.

This hiss of your hair is soothing

Your bronze hands are cold, but shine brilliantly in the light

The wings on your back cannot carry you, but they shade you from the harsh sun

You don't know if Athena meant these things as gifts, or as punishments

The gods are fickle like that.

Regardless, you will make the most of what you've been given

You _will_ find beauty in them

You _will_ appreciate what they can do

You _will_ love them

You will love yourself

Even if everyone else regards you with hate.

The sight of you turns men to stone

But animals, they look you head on

Unflinching, unchanging

You wonder what the limits to this power are

But you care not to venture out to test it

Not that it matters; people find you of their own accord

Men go out of their way to seek you out

They insist on entering your domain, on sealing their fate

They bring clever tricks, try to outsmart you

It never works.

Your collection is quite sizeable now - it surrounds your domain, a warning to others.

This is your fate, it says

Stay away, it says

Leave me _alone,_ it says

But mortals refuse to listen.

She enters your cave just after the sun has dipped below the horizon

Outside, one of Zeus' tantrums rages

And you wonder if this foolish human could see what she was getting into.

She takes off her helmet, pulls out her kindling kit before realizing

The cave is already lit.

"Forgive me," she calls out

"I see that someone lives here, and that I have trespassed.

"If you would be so kind, I would impose upon you further

"And stay here until Zeus' wrath has passed."

You watch from the shadows, silent.

"In exchange, I can give you gold. Or perhaps cheese or wine?

"At the very least, I can entertain you with tales of my adventures."

You are intrigued.

"What is your name?" you ask

She turns towards you, but the shadows are too dark for mortal eyes

"Orithea."

Your snakes softly hiss her name, committing it to memory

You remember the name of every unfortunate soul that has wandered in here.

"May I have your name?" Orithea asks

You wonder if she knows; if she's trying to do this kindly

Or maybe she's trying to make you let your guard down

"No." you decide. "Call me Ma'am." 

Orithea agrees readily. "I would appreciate your hospitality, Ma'am." 

"Very well. But you must not look upon me.

"Face the wall, cover your eyes, whatever you need to do.

"But your gaze must never come to rest on me." 

Slowly, Orithea agrees to this, too, with a nod. "Thank you." 

You watch as Orithea pulls a fine cloth from her pack and ties it over her eyes

You continue to watch her as she feels her way over to the fire pit and seats herself there

"Tell me," you say, stepping from the shadows

"Where is it that you come from?"

"Athens, Ma'am." 

Of course. 

"And what brings you all the way from Athens?" 

"A quest, Ma'am." Ah, so she _is_ a hero.

"What sort of quest?" 

"I am to stop the pain of Medusa's curse."

So this is how it is.

So this is the game Athena wants to play.

Fine. So be it.

But you can listen to a few stories first.

Orithea is an excellent storyteller;

Her tales are grand, but seemingly honest

They're certainly entertaining.

Of the storm outside, Orithea says, "It seems Zeus' anger only grows.

"Might I spend the night?"

It would be wiser to take the chance to send her away

But you have already let her stay this long

And you are curious to see what she does.

"Very well." you say. 

"But sleep with the blindfold on 

"And do not look upon me." 

"The cloth will remain over my eyes." says Orithea. "This, I swear." 

Orithea makes her bed, still blinded

She is dexterous and careful, and it takes her mere minutes. 

"Ma'am," she says when she is settled

"Would you tell me of yourself?

"I am curious what someone as lovely as you is doing alone in a cave such as this."

Her words mean nothing coming from a blinded hero seeking to kill you.

And yet.

"What makes you think that I am lovely?" 

"You sound lovely." says the hero

"How does one 'sound' lovely?" you challenge

"You are kind. That is the loveliest thing that one can be." 

Foolish.

How terribly foolish.

"Sleep, hero.

"You will need it if you are to face Medusa."

In the morning, Orithea rises

To sun shining through the cave entrance

The air absent of the sound of rain or the smell of lightning.

You have been awake all night

Watching her

Waiting for what's to come.

"Ma'am?" Orithea calls

"Are you still here?"

"Yes," you say, "I am here."

Orithea smiles and, despite yourself, you think

She, too, is very lovely.

"Good morning," she says, but not just as a greeting;

She says it as though she truly wishes it for you.

"How did you sleep?" she asks

"Well enough." you lie

She gets to her feet, says, "Shall I hunt us some breakfast?"

You stare.

"I am quite the cook, I am told." 

There is nothing you can say but "If you wish."

Orithea gathers her bag, her bow, and gives you a parting smile.

She turns her back, removes her blindfold

You hold your breath

And she leaves the cave without turning back.

It is some time before Orithea returns

Giving you plenty of time for your imagination to run wild.

When she enters your cave, you expect her bow to be drawn

Surely the statues outside, clear in the light of day

Have revealed to her where she is, who you are

But her bow is limp at her side

And her other hand feels her way into the cavern

The blindfold secure around her eyes once more.

"I hope you like rabbit." she says.

"I don't mind it." you reply.

You skin the rabbit while Orithea kindles the fire

Soon, the meal is settled over the fire, and Orithea says

"Those statues…"

Here it is.

"Did you make them?" 

"In a way." you answer

"They are very impressive. How long have you been making them?"

Wary, you tell her, "I'm not certain. It feels like I've been doing it forever."

"How long have you been here by yourself?"

That gives you pause. 

How long _have_ you been by yourself?

Softly, you admit,

"It feels like forever." 

"If you would like," says the hero Orithea

"I could keep you company a while longer." 

Surely this is a trick. 

You know how heroes are

All of them so clever

So very, very clever.

"I would like that."

So she stays, and she tells you more of her tales

And you listen, letting yourself pretend that this tale won't end in tragedy. 

"-then my mother granted me this bow, and-"

You stop her - "Your mother?"

"Yes:

"Artemis."

Ah, so she's not just a hero: she's the child of a god. 

But: "I did not think that she…"

"She is a virgin, yes. But she found me on one of her hunts.

"Abandoned. Alone.

"She raised me. Taught me to hunt. To be brave.

"I know not who birthed me, or who planted my seed,

"But Artemis has been good to me."

Orithea pulls her legs to her chest

Resting her head on her knees

And she looks very vulnerable, very mortal

As she says, "It wasn't always easy. 

"Gods are very different from mortals.

"They don't always know what to do with us

"And they can seem cruel and cold.

"But I do have good memories;

"Like when her brother Apollo would visit

"And mother would string her bow while he played

"Grand epics and soft melodies

"Until I fell asleep."

Her head turns towards you

"Would you like to hear one?"

Silently, you nod

Only realizing after that she cannot see you.

Regardless, she seems to understand.

She lifts her head, and begins to sing

Of monsters and kings

Brave heroes and fickle gods

And lovers fighting against all odds.

By the end, you are weeping, and are not exactly sure why.

"Ma'am," says Orithea

You look at her, and her hand is outstretched

To your surprise, there is no hesitation in you as you take her hand in yours

She grips your hand tightly

Reassuringly

And does not flinch away from the cold bronze.

You wake, and she-

She is lying next to you, her hand still holding yours.

You have not touched another person in so long.

You find yourself curling closer to her, seeking her warmth

She sighs in her sleep, her hand squeezing yours

And you find her to be radiant.

Some time later, she shifts, making a soft noise

"Are you awake, Ma'am?" she asks, heavy with sleep

"Yes." you say

"Good morning, Ma'am," she says, smiling softly

"It's evening," you tell her

"Good evening, Ma'am," she amends. "How did you sleep?"

"Well." you say, and find that you mean it.

Orithea's smile grows. "I'm glad."

Something in you aches at the sight of that smile. 

Maybe it's that she's kind - so kind

Maybe it's that she's handsome - unbelievably so, like a true child of the gods

Maybe it's that she's here, and you've been alone for so, so long.

"Ma'am," says Orithea

"May I touch your face?"

You go still.

"Why?" 

"If you are willing, I should like to kiss you.

"And if I am to do that, I need to know where I'm aiming." 

You should say no.

You should rip the blindfold off her head and get this over with.

You take her hand in yours 

And guide it to rest on your cheek.

She strokes her thumb along your skin

Feeling the soft scales there

Then cups your jaw

Her thumb sliding over to your bottom lip

It catches on one of your tusks, but she is unshaken

Tracing your lips carefully

As though savoring this moment

Before closing the distance.

Her lips press to yours solidly

And she presses her body closer to you

Pulling you into her

As she claims your lips as her own.

She lays you on your back, herself laying atop you

And kisses you like a woman dying.

Tears spring to your eyes again as she kisses you

Her touches gentle, her body soft against yours

Her voice tender and sweet as she repeats, over and over;

_Lovely_

_Lovely_

_You are so_ **_lovely_ **

"You are the most lovely thing I have ever come across, Medusa."

She continues to kiss the corner of your mouth, your cheek

But your blood has run cold.

"You know my name?"

Orithea slows to a stop

"... yes."

"How long?"

She sits up, removing her weight from your chest

"Since the beginning.

"Please, Medusa, let me-"

You push her away, getting to your feet

"Remove the cloth." you demand.

"Ma'am-" 

"Remove it!"

It's time to do what should have been done in the first place

Before you gave in to curiosity

Before you gave in to longing

Before you gave in to feeling again.

On her knees, Orithea reaches behind her head

Deft fingers undoing the knot

And lowers the cloth from her eyes.

Her eyes are grey, you note as her gaze tilts up to meet yours

And filled with such sorrow.

You wait for that expression to be captured forever

Sealed in lifeless stone

And yet

She stares at you head on

Unflinching 

Unchanging

And says

"Please. let me tell you one last tale."

The hero Orithea came to Athens, one of many stops on her travels

There, she was called on by her aunt

And Pallas Athena gave her a task.

"In a cavern some distance from here, there is a gorgon named Medusa.

"She was beautiful once. But this beauty brought ill attention her way.

"On one such occasion, in my own temple, I intervened.

"Now men turn to stone at the sight of her

"Still, they try to conquer her - in new and different ways."

"Grey-eyed Athena," the hero Orithea said

"What would you have me do?"

"End the pain of Medusa's curse.

"How you shall do so will be up to you."

And so the hero Orithea was given a gift from the grey-eyed goddess

A piece of fine cloth that would blind her to everything 

Except for that which she needed to see.

When she wore the cloth, the world turned dark

But she could see Medusa with perfect clarity.

She saw the sadness in the gorgon's eyes

The way that she watched Orithea with curiosity and wonderment

Orithea saw, time and again, Medusa choosing to spare her, if only for a few hours more

She saw, underneath it all, a woman who had been hurt very badly

And she was sorry if she had added on to that hurt.

"I did not know what to expect when I came here

"Or what I would do to complete my quest

"But the moment I saw you I knew

"You are a monster in men's eyes

"Something for them to fear, for them to attack

"They are so often taught violence and brutality

"And led to believe that is the only way to be

"Our heroes even more so.

"But even the wildest boar

"The most rabid wolf

"Is only trying to survive.

"Such a creature should be met with compassion

"With the strive to understand them

"And a chest filled with kindness."

"I meant what I said, Ma'am - you _are_ lovely

"One of the most lovely creatures I have ever come across

"You deserve a life free of fear

"A life where you can be happy.

"I will travel back to Athens and tell of your death at my hands

"How I burned and buried you to ensure your demise

"Assuring them that the great Medusa is slain

"So that you may live in peace."

"But

"If you are willing

"I would return here

"And I would take your hand and kiss your lips

"And lay you down in a wedding bed

"I would hunt you breakfast and cook you dinner

"I would sing you the songs my uncle passed to me

"I would tell you of my travels and entertain you by the fire for hours.

"If you are willing, I would love you

"And end the pain of your curse."

This could be another trick

You shouldn't believe her

But you want to

You want her to be telling the truth

You want her to end this misery

You want to be loved

You want _her_.

You were beautiful once

And every day, your wife reminds you that you are beautiful still

Your visage turns men to stone

This does not matter much anymore

Foolish mortals no longer seek you out

And the only hero you have seen in the past years is the one in your bed.

To the world, you are dead and gone

This suits you fine

For in your 'death' you have found new life.

You still do not know if your hair, your hands, your wings

Were meant as a gift or a punishment

But your wife gives love to them as though they are blessings

And so you are inclined to agree.

You have found someone who sees your beauty

Who sees your worth

Who chooses every day to love and keep loving you

Even when the rest of the world regards you with only hate.

Each night you take her to your wedding bed

And pour your love into her

Showing her your devotion

Thanking her for saving your life

Singing hymns of the hero Orithea.


End file.
